Potter Stinks
by Sterling95
Summary: While helping Draco unpack after the Christmas break, Harry comes across Malfoy's old "POTTER STINKS" button. Fluffy, angsty one shot. HarryxDraco. Post-war/8th year.


So, I was just going along, doing my thing on Pottermore when… I went through the scene with the "Potter Stinks" badges. It made me think, "What if Draco still had it as an eighth year?" and out came some Drarry fluff/slight angst. I dunno. I'm sleepy. But here you guys go.

I feel I should mention that I also have this posted on my tumblr.

And, of course, the obligatory disclaimer: I do not own the characters or places mentioned in this story. If I did, Drarry would be canon and I'd be very, very wealthy.

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><p>Harry stretched out on the bed, dragging a pillow under his head. The green curtains and sheets didn't bother him as they had the first few times Harry had found himself in the Slytherin dorms. A crooked smile slipped onto his face; from his vantage point Harry could see a certain blond-haired boy scowling at him over the open lid of a trunk.<p>

"You could at least _pretend_ to help me unpack," Draco drawled as he moved to shelf a stack of books. "I helped with yours. Thought Weaselby would have a heart attack."

Propping himself up on his elbows the Gryffindor said, "You were just looking for an excuse to clean everything. Can't stand a messy room, can you, Draco?" To prove his point the dark-haired boy kicked off his shoes and socks, leaving them in a pile beside the bed. He chuckled at the glare his boyfriend sent his way. "Besides, my idea of unpacking is just digging through the trunk as I need things, you know that."

Just as it seemed Malfoy was about to throw something at him, Harry stood up and walked around to the foot of the bed. He wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and kissed him slowly, taking in the feel of the pressed together. "I'll help. But you'd best repay me tonight," he whispered against the pale boy's neck before swooping away to grab an armful of Draco's possessions out of the chest.

Fifteen minutes later saw the trunk nearly empty. It would have gone faster if the Slytherin hadn't stopped Harry every few minutes to fix the mess he was making. "You _have_ to be trying to piss me off," Draco finally announced. His lover had just flung his nicest set of dress robes in a drawer, leaving them crumpled. But his complaint came out resigned, later he would have to fix everything. No point in arguing now.

With a smirk on his face, Harry came back over the trunk. At this rate, he'd never have to help with the unpacking again—he'd already been stripped of his right to pack his own trunk after Malfoy had seen the disgraceful pile of_stuff_ Harry had thrown together for the Christmas holidays. Stooping to pick up the small things left in Malfoy's trunk, he froze. When he straightened again there was a frown on his face and something was clutched in his hand.

"I was such a prat back then," Draco whispered over Harry's shoulder. His hand reached up and wrapped around the button that declared "POTTER STINKS." Gently he took it from the smaller boy and threw it on the bed. "No wonder I was turned into a ferret."

This was a moment that both boys knew too well. The silence and heaviness left behind by the war pushed in on them. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling the boy tightly against his chest. After a small eternity, the dark-haired boy turned to bury his face in Draco's shoulder. Even now Harry blamed himself for Cedric Diggory's death and that button produced a slew of memories.

"I should have done something back then," he mumbled against Draco's robes. "Why didn't I do anything?"

It didn't matter what the Slytherin said to The Boy Who Lived right now, so he remained quiet. Instead of talking, he pulled the both onto the bed. Silently he held Harry, knowing that later they would work this out. The button clacked as the moved around on the mattress and Malfoy impatiently kicked it to the floor. Why had he even kept the stupid thing? He felt a little sick, thinking about everything that happened after he created that damn pin.

Harry stirred some time later. He pressed a kiss to the sharp angle of Draco's jaw, an unspoken "thank you" for staying with him as he fought with himself. It wasn't the first time they had done this for each other, words weren't necessary now.

But instead of smiling and kissing Harry softly, Draco frowned, his jaw hardening. Seeing the confusion flash across his lover's face, he said, "I'm sorry."

Those words tore at the smaller boy's heart. They were full of pain and regret. He wasn't apologizing for the button. To stop either of them from thinking too far, Harry kissed Draco hard. Desperation turned into lust. Clothes were quickly piled on the floor and the boys tangled together, seeking comfort and consolation in each other. Perhaps that was why their relationship worked, neither boy had to pretend for the other.

It was only later, when they were sprawled out over Draco's bed in a jumble of sweaty limbs and sheets, that they dared to talk about what they were thinking. Harry went first, "I know I didn't get Cedric killed. I know that now. But it is so hard to believe it."

Carding his fingers through Potter's shaggy hair, Draco said, "I know." He gently pressed a kiss to Harry's temple. Hours later they would be woken up by Zabini—they _were_ in Hogwarts, it wasn't as if they got much privacy—but for now they slept and held each other together.


End file.
